


Dust and Dirt

by Miri1984



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabble, in movie drabble, just a little interlude after the missile hits zola's bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1766698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984





	Dust and Dirt

The missile hit and Steve felt his eardrums try to crawl into his skull. It was all he could do to keep the shield above him and Tasha, the fire and heat surrounding them so intense that he was afraid it would boil her blood in her veins. He pulled her closer with his other hand, curling his body around her as far as it would go, trying with all his might to protect them both as the noise and the heat and the pressure continued for longer than he thought it was possible.

When it was over, there was dark, and dust, and all he wanted to do was rest. It was warm. Steve had always had a thing for warmth, even before he went into the ice. 

It was Natasha coughing against him that forced him to move again. She was alive, and that was enough to make him shove at the concrete and dirt above him. It hurt, and it was heavy — so heavy, but he managed to dig them out, fresh air rushing in and going to his head like wine.

He hoisted her into his arms, not thinking about other dangers — a missile had just landed on their heads he really didn’t think there could be anything worse than that. When the first searchlight passed over his head and through the ringing in his ears he heard the hum of planes he groaned internally.

But there was no time for self pity.

He ran, with Natasha in his arms. Easier for him than for anyone else, but still difficult. For the first few miles he didn’t even dare pause to adjust her into a better position, he just held her close to his chest and put one foot in front of the other. He was fast, but not as fast as he could be. His arms ached, his lungs were burning from smoke and dust and he wasn’t even clear where he was going.

He was still running when he felt the soft thump of Natasha’s fist on his arm. Again. He stumbled to a stop, letting her get her feet under her. They were in a patch of woods, far enough away from the explosion that it was a haze of dust and red on the horizon. Far enough that the sounds of sirens and planes didn’t reach them. 

“Steve,” Natasha said, before she was overcome with a bout of coughing. She slid down the trunk of the tree she was leaning against, then her head flopped forward onto her knees as she struggled for breath.

“You okay?” he asked.

There was a small, desperate laugh. “Sure. Peachy. Did you just carry me twenty miles?”

“More like five,” he said. 

“I think that might have been one of my childhood fantasies. Being rescued by Captain America.”

He didn’t believe _that_ for a minute. “We need to keep moving. If you want I can carry…”

“No. No we need to work out where we’re going _to._ Running without purpose is just as bad as staying still.”

“I thought the first rule of going on the run was to walk,” he said.

She laughed again. “Jesus. No. Yes. Planes walk faster than we do.”

“Where do we go?”

“We need gear.”

“Gear?”

Tasha had loaded up the truck with a lot of weapons, and he knew for a fact that she’d armed herself with a good deal of them before they’d gone into Camp Lehigh. “Weapons. Tech. We’re fugitives we need…”

Steve shook his head. “What _you_ need is rest and food. Gear can wait.”

“Steve you might be able to take down Hydra with nothing but your smile and an adonis jawline but I’m just a mortal woman and I need my _things.”_

He’d ran alongside a road, not stupid enough, or secure enough in his geography, to pick a direction at random, but he wasn’t stupid enough to pick the main road back into Trenton. It was still early — before 10pm, the whole business with Zola’s bunker had taken less than an hour and he’d only been running for half that when they’d stopped. They were far enough away from the road that no one would see them, but Steve could still hear the occasional swish of a car going past.

They had no friends. No one to trust but each other.

“We can get your things once I know you’re going to be all right,” he said. 

“Survived a lot worse than this,” Natasha said. “Me and Clint, in Budapest, there was this anti-aircraft gun that Clint thought he could take down with nothing but a net arrow and…”

“Natasha.”

“Right. Babbling. Sorry.” She got to her feet, leaning heavily on the tree, and let out a small huff of laughter. “Steve. _Steve.”_

_“What?”_

“We just got hit with a _missile_ Steve.”

He looked at her for a second, then shook his head, the laughter bubbling over in him until they were both leaning against each other, breathless. “I think that’s a first for me.”

“First missile since 1945, put it in your collection with your first kiss.”

“I told you that was _not_ my first kiss since…”

“Terrible liar remember? And your own hand doesn’t count.”

He smirked and took a deep breath, running his eyes over her, checking for bleeding. He had scratches and bruises along his arms that were already healing. He ran through his options. They couldn’t go to SHIELD, Stark was in Malibu, Dr Banner was heaven knew where and Clint…

“Natasha can you get in touch with Clint?”

She shook her head. “Too risky. He’ll be hiding, trying to work out who to trust. We can’t draw attention to him.”

She wanted to protect him. Which was understandable. “Anyone with SHIELD connections is out,” Steve said. Who else did he _know?_ “We need a car, Natasha,” Steve said. 

“You’re gonna replace that truck we borrowed, right?” she said. 

Steve winced. There was no way it would have survived the missile strike. “I took the numberplate.” He held out a hand to help her get going, which she ignored, matching his pace and looking a little more together than she had. 

“You have a plan on where to go?”

“Yeah. To see a friend.” 


End file.
